


Lost inside

by Slytheringirl093



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Broken Heart, Depression, Female Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hearing Voices, Mistakes, Other, Past Relationship(s), Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Regret, Siblings, Speculation, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirl093/pseuds/Slytheringirl093
Summary: “ Ai laik Bloodreina no mo ” she had voiced while collapsing to the floor, on her knees. But the voice in her head didn’t listen.Maybe. Maybe you’re not. But you’re not that scared little girl either, are you? You’ve changed – the voice countered. She closed her fist on the weapon.“Ai laik Okteivia kom Skaikru ” she murmured. She closed her eyes trying to keep the voice out.Are you?





	1. That's where she lies, broken inside

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you.  
> I am really happy that so many of you guys liked "Too much" and that's why I'm writing again, hoping that you could like this too. So, about this... it's very sad, like really sad and dark and really NOT THE WAY I WANT THE SEASON TO GO. I wrote to exorcizing the thoughts, you know... to let it out of my mind and put it out there.  
> I love Octavia, I really do, with all my heart and I'm suffering with her every season and the last one was SO DAMN HURTFUL. I love the Blake's relationship more than everything, maybe even more than Bellarke (or well... close) and Bob and Marie's acting is something so powerful I can't even begin to describe how much I cried during last season. So...  
> This is a window in what my mind imagined for them...  
> I was watching a video on youtube and suddenly the scene when Bellamy said " I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this to get back to my family" was on, and it killed me. So this was the immediate aftermath. 
> 
> BTW, it's a TWO-PART fic, and I'm already writing part 2 so I think I'll be able to post it by tomorrow. 
> 
> Please, leave your opinions, comments... whatever. I'm happy to read them.
> 
> Also, remember that English is not my first language, so be patient with me.  
> See you at the end!  
> Good read!

_She wants to go home_  
But nobody's home  
That's where she lies  
Broken inside  
  


 

 

 _Six days_.

Six days since she woke up. Six days since she last _saw him_.

He wasn’t even the one who woke her up. _Clarke did._  

He was there, spared her a quick glance, before exiting the room and never look back. She had bitten her lip so hard that day, it bled. Anything to avert crying.

She watched the video of Monty and Harper in silence, fighting the tears with more biting and clenching of fists. Miller was right beside her, but he really _wasn’t._ He didn’t even look at her. She left the room, right after Monty’s last words. Then the screen became black and nobody bothered to follow her. That’s how she found _the_ room. She closed the door behind her and finally let go, _cried_ until she was sure she had nothing more left to give. Then she simply got up, walked to one of the cot in the room and lied down until she drifted off to sleep.

 _Clarke_ was the one who told her _they were leaving_. She stood by the door, Octavia saw her reflection in the glass of the window she was looking out of.

 _We are leaving in an hour –_ she had said - _we’re going down to do a reckon, we’ll be back in three days top_. Octavia didn’t nod or acknowledge to have heard, but Clarke _knew_ she was listening, anyway. She always _listened_  to Clarke. Part of the reason why, was that she was one of the only _four_ people who acknowledged her existence. The other three were Madi, Abby and _surprisingly enough_ , Colonel Diyoza. A small group of _pariahs_ , apart from Madi. It was almost _ironic_.

“Don’t forget to eat ” she reminded her _“_ I asked Madi to keep an eye on you, don’t be difficult”

 _That_ had suddenly picked her interest. Not because she had just been entrusted to _a child_ , but because she had thought Madi was going down with them. She had turned to Clarke, then, her eyes were scrutinizing the blonde in front of her with a curious glance.

“Heda’s not coming with you _”_ she had said, a silent question beneath. But Clarke didn’t take the bait.

“Three days” she had remarked. Then she had motioned to leave, but Octavia had been quicker.

“Wait, Clarke…” she had called, not able to stop herself. The girl in question had stopped herself to turn and look at her. They simply exchanged a look, a _silent conversation hidden in it_

_Don’t let anything happen to him - I won’t - Promise me._

Clarke smiled.

“You don’t even have to ask” she had simply said, and then she was gone.

It was day _six_ , now. They were back on the ship. And _she had kept her promise_.

They were in the mess hall when they’d come back. Madi making sure she ate her breakfast, like Clarke had commanded it. Madi was a _kind soul_ , and the way she spoke to her was so gentle and supportive that she couldn’t been able to put any resistance, even if she had wanted to. Sometimes she reminded her of _someone else_ , someone whose touch used to be _so gentle_ , too. But she never let go her mind _that_ far. She couldn’t.

Then Madi had suddenly jumped out of her seat, calling out for _her mother_ and literally launching herself to the blonde in question, who had suddenly appeared  by the door. When Octavia had turned, she had seen all the group, slowly entering the room and suddenly people were all over them, asking questions, hugging and laughing with each other. She didn’t move from her seat. Her eyes were looking for him. Then he looked at her and the whole world stopped.

_He was okay. He was alive. He was looking at her._

She tried to stand up, she _wanted to_ , but her legs wouldn’t cooperate and she found herself unable to move. But he was _still looking at her_ , and so she let herself _hope_.

 _I love you so much, Big Brother. I was worried. Please –_ so many words whispered between her irises.

 _But then_ he saw someone else and lift his gaze from her. Raven was collapsing into him. And he seemed _so relieved_ to see _her_ , to touch _her,_ to see _she_ was alright.  _You’re ok? –_ Octavia heard him ask Raven. Then she was nodding and they were hugging again, and he was kissing the back of her head.

If she had still a piece of heart left, she was sure it had broken right in that moment.

As soon as she realized her legs were working again, she stood up and with the pride of a warrior she left the room. She accelerated her pace as soon as she was in the corridor, heading for her room, not bothering to keep her tears from falling anymore.

 _You let yourself hope again -_  said the voice in her head - _you’re not his family anymore_.

Once reached the room, she went for the knife hidden under her pillow.

 _You’re not part of his family anymore, Bloodreina_ – the voice reminded her.

With the knife in her hand, she suddenly felt _that_ urgency again. That sense of helplessness, when all hope was lost, when _blood_ was all she knew.

 _You can’t really blame him -_  the voice would say - _Octavia died a long time ago. You’re someone else now._

“ _Ai laik Bloodreina no mo_[1]” she had voiced while collapsing to the floor, on her knees. But the voice in her head didn’t listen.

 _Maybe. Maybe you’re not. But you’re not that scared little girl either, are you? You’ve changed –_ the voice countered. She closed her fist on the weapon.

 _“Ai laik Okteivia kom Skaikru_ _ **[2]**_ _”_ she murmured. She closed her eyes trying to keep the voice out.

_Are you? -_

“ Yes!”

 _Then why did you take the knife, Okteivia kom Skaikru ?–_ the voice pestered.

“ I…”

_You know why. Don’t lie to yourself. There’s no point –_

“ I don’t…”

_You want to bleed. You want to bleed and paint your face with your blood. You want to cover yourself with it, you want to feel it –_

“ No! No! No!” she screamed. It wasn’t true, it _couldn’t_ be true.

_The Red Queen never left, because she’s not someone you could get rid of. She’s you –_

“ _Ai laik Bloodreina no mo_[3]” she repeated, this time more fiercely.

_He hates you. How could he love someone who’s already dead? –_

When the voice reminded her of _her own words_ , the very same she directed to him not long ago, she stopped fighting. She sit down, her back on the cold metal, her hands caressing the blade absently.

“ I’m not dead” she whispered to herself “ I can still _feel_ ”

_You can always stop. You know you’re ready –_

It was true. She was. She’d been for a long time now.

“ Yes. And I’m taking _her_ with me”

 _And you will finally have peace… -_ the voice soothed.

The first _cut_ was _painless_. Her left arm stood still while the blood started dripping. The second _wasn’t either_. She gave herself other two cuts on her right arm and wrist. Still no pain. They were supposed to hurt more, but it was just a tickle. How was that possible? Was she… _was she really already dead?_

 _You’re supposed to slit just your wrists, not your arms too –_ the little voice suggested, but Octavia had her reasons. She was killing _her,_ too. So she just smiled, the thought of peace already making her happy. A face pictured in front of her. _Lincoln._

“ _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim, hodnes **[4]**” _ she said before closing her eyes and finally welcoming the pain.

She was almost convinced she heard _Bellamy’s_ voice calling her name, right before drifting off to the blackness. For a moment she also imagined _his arms taking her, his eyes over her, his hands holding hers_.  

_Don’t worry Big brother. I’ll be okay, now –_

The last thing she remembered is the heat of someone’s body holding her.

She liked to think it was _Bellamy._

Then everything went black.

 

 _With no place to go_  
No place to go to  
To dry her eyes  
Broken inside

 

 

 

 

[1] “I’m Bloodreina no more”

[2] “I am Octavia of the Sky people”

[3] “I’m Bloodreina no more”

[4] “May we meet again, my love”


	2. Not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Octavia's attempt to commit suicide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very proud of this chapter, like SO MUCH.   
> I loved writing it, and I cried writing it, I laugh writing it. It was everything.   
> It's so much better than the first one, which you could say was more of a setting for this chapter.  
> Let me know what you think, guys!

“ Do you have any dizziness? ”

Octavia doesn’t answer right away, the redness of the dried blood on her hands distracting her from everything else. She registers the _voice_ , who it _belongs to_. But she doesn’t answer.

She’s sitting on a cold metal table, her hands in her lap while Clarke is finishing wrapping up the last of the gauze on her left forearm. She hasn’t said a word since she opened her eyes and saw Clarke’s blue eyes looking at her. To her defense, she has nothing to say apart from the fact that she _didn’t expect to wake up_.

“ Octavia? ”

Clarke had been smiling with relief _the first time_ she’d opened her eyes. She had felt like she was waking up from a long dream, ears were ringing and her throat dry, vision blurred. Clarke had tried to say something, but she couldn’t listen to her, still in her soundproof world. When she had tried to move, she had felt a pinching on the inside of her forearm: an intravenous line was in her left arm. The table was too high for her to see who was at the other side of the tube. She had tried to say something, to ask Clarke about it, but the words were dying in her throat and the blonde signaled her to not speak. So she didn’t,  and soon enough she was sleeping again.

The _second time_ she woke up, her hearing was back and the utter silence of the room made her think she was alone. Her vision had come clearer this time, the white light of a lamp on the ceiling made her blink a few times before her eyesight adjusted.  She tried open her mouth and suddenly started coughing. Immediate movements followed, and Madi Griffin appeared in her sight. She must have said something, but Octavia couldn’t hear her over the coughing, but apparently she had called for Clarke who was suddenly next to her helping her lifting her head to have a glass of water. She drank it all, her throat finally hurting less. She didn’t have the IV anymore, she noticed, and both of her arms were covered in bandages, soaked in red. Clarke had helped her sit then, and started changing her bandages with new gauzes, without saying a word.

Octavia had forced herself not to look at her, keeping her gaze on her hands during all the process. She thoughts seeing the cuts would make her regret them, regret her _choice_. But she didn’t, not really. What she enjoyed though, was the sudden absence of the _voices_ in her head. Maybe they were still asleep, or maybe she had finally killed them, finally killed _her_. Whatever it was, she was grateful.

She watched Clarke sanitize the cuts for what it must have been the second time, one by one. There was no such thing in the bunker, she found herself thinking. Every cut was left to heal for itself. Especially _hers._ The logic was simple: _if you can’t survive a cut, you might as well die._ Also, they ran out of sanitizer by the end of _month nine, year one_.

Keeping her gaze away from Clarke, also led her to notice that her hands were still _red_. Not _bloody_ , just _red._ She found it _hypnotizing_ and _ironic_ at some point. After all, _the blood never really leave the hands of a killer, does it?_

“ I can clean them”  she hears the voice say, and she gets back to the present.

The tone is gentle, almost a whisper. She must have followed her gaze. 

“ What’s the point?”  she asks and Clarke startles at finally hearing the sound of her voice.

Octavia’s voice comes out _cold_ and _sharp_ , like the blade she used to cut herself not long before. When she finally allows herself to look at her, Clarke is silently watching her, still lingering with her hands on Octavia’s. Her blue eyes are looking intensely at her, desperately trying to _read_ between the lines.

“You can’t wash the blood out my hands, Clarke. It’s too late for that” she adds. There’s no tremble in her voice, no emotions. It’s just a statement, a _simple_ statement. She watches a flicker of emotion passing through her eyes, maybe _sympathy._ Of course, _she knows how it feels like_. But she can’t seem to find an answer to her statement, not one that she bothers giving voice to. Instead she gently pulls her medical kit away and sit right next to her on the table, close but not too much. Madi is not in the room anymore.

They stay like this for a while, silence between them filling the small room. It’s then that she notices they never actually left _her room_. It’s a _bedroom_ , sort of. It’s the room Octavia chose after waking up, after discovering _everything,_ after realizing how _alone_ she really was. It was simple:  two cots, two closets, a metal table (the very one they were sitting now on) with a couple of chairs and a small lamp. The only perk of the room was the window, a small window on the left that let her see the _new planet_. That room had been her little _bunker_. Nobody ever came, nobody ever looked for her. Not that she expected to. She thought she’d heard the door open a couple of times, the first night, but honestly… it could have been a dream, or just wishful thinking.

“ You scared us, you know? ”

Clarke’s voice is soft, just like her gaze. She can feel her eyes on her skin. She’d like to answer, but she’s not really sure what to say. She really doesn’t.

“ I never saw _him_ like this… he was…”

Clarke never finishes her sentence because Octavia’s eyes are widened and suddenly she has stopped breathing.

“ He… _saw_ me?”

“ He _found_ you, Octavia. And it was a miracle that he did when he did, because a few minutes would have made the difference…”

“ He _found_ me?”

Every other words seems less relevant. He _found her_. He _saved her_. She vaguely remembers what happened before she passed out, but now sounds and feelings are starting to come back and she realizes that the _saw him_ there. She had thought it was a fragment of her imagination, something she was making up with her mind while slipping away, but _it wasn’t._ He had been _really_ there.

“ I… don’t remember much” she admits, and she hopes that Clarke understand the implication of her statement. And thankfully, _she does_.

“ I was in the corridor when I heard him, shouting my name, then your’s, then my mother’s. I ran as fast as I could and _then I saw you_. You were in his arms, passed out, in a pool of blood. He was… trying to stop the bleeding from your wrists with his hands and…”

Octavia watches as Clarke eyes start watering, every word more difficult to pronounce than the other. She doesn’t really know what to do with what she’s saying. She doesn’t really know what to say, or do. The truth is… _she wasn’t supposed to know_ , because she was supposed to be dead by now and not _dealing with this_.

“ … you lost a lot of blood, so we had to prep you for a transfusion”

“ How long…”

“ Three hours. You slept through all of it”

“ Is he…”

“ He’s resting. I literally had to force him to. But he refused to leave the room”

Clarke shifts her gaze from her and points it at something else, behind her.

And that’s when _she sees him_. He’s sleeping, curled on one side. His right forearm still visible, his shirt roll- sleeved. He’s right _there_. How could she have not noticed him before?

“ He was really _scared._ If something had happened to you, if we couldn’t save you,  I don’t…”

“ Why did you?” she asks her, looking back at her again, genuinely curious.

“ What?”

“ Why did you save me?”

Clarke seems to consider her answer, cautiously. Octavia still expects her answer. It isn’t a strange question, after all. She slit her wrists, it’s not like she cut herself by mistake. She _wanted to die_. And as far as she knows, her death was _an acceptable loss_ for everyone.

“ Two reasons” she finally says “ First one: your brother asked me to”

_Fair enough_ – she thinks. She couldn’t imagine Bellamy pleading for her life, not after what he told her, not after he admitted _he wanted her dead_ , not after being _ignored_ and _erased_ from his heart. But _she believes_ Clarke. She believes what she’s telling, how scared he must have been, for her to tearing up only for remembering it. Octavia knows how much Clarke _cares_ for her brother.

“ What’s the other one?” she asks.

Clarke takes a small breath, her eyes never leaving hers.

“ I didn’t want you to die, _not like this_ ”

“ You mean _by suicide_?”

“ I mean _alone, thinking no-one in this world cares about you and_ yes, by _committing suicide_ ”

“ You wanted me dead, before”

“ I never wanted you to die, Octavia”

“ Right, you just needed me to”

“ Yes. I did”

It is in moments like this that Octavia remembers how much she actually missed and liked talking to Clarke. She is _straight_ talker, she always has been. No sugarcoated pills with her. Just the simple truth, good or bad. She cares about her people but she isn’t scared to admit that she cares more about some of them. She isn’t scared to risk her safety, and she isn’t scared to make sacrifices if necessary. Octavia has always respected her. Maybe she didn’t agree with most of her choices, maybe she even fought some of them, but she never questioned the logic behind it. _Wanheda_ had been an appropriate name for her. _The commander of death_. What was always fascinating about Clarke, was that she didn’t really want people to die. She had never really killed someone because they deserved it, or because she wanted to kill them. It was just a matter of priority. With Clarke, it was always a _list_. Sometimes of a hundred names, sometimes of five, six… and a couple of times it was just made of one. There was only person Wanheda never allowed to die, no matter what the circumstances, no matter what the costs. _One single person_. It was no secret, to the people who were close to her. That person was _her brother_.

Or at least, _it was_ until Madi came around. That, and those six years screwed up a lot of things for Clarke. For _everybody_ , to be honest. A lot of priorities changed. And Octavia, she knows about this more than anyone.

“ Why did _you_ want to die? ”

Straight. Honest. Octavia can deal with that.

“ Don’t have anything to live for”

“ What about _him_? Is he _not worth_ living for? ”

“ He’s the one who told me he wanted me to die”

The words still hurts. They come back, taunting her every day. _Why do you care if I die? Isn’t that what you want? – Yes._ She has tried to _ignore_ them, to _forget_ them, even to _change_ them, but the way they are printed in her mind made it impossible to. _He wanted her to die_. He thought it was the right thing to do. It would have let her die, in that battlefield. She deserved to. But she was robbed of a warrior’s death.  So, what if she tried again on her own terms? _Now_ she didn’t deserve to die? _Now_ she was worthy of being saved? Why? Honestly, she doesn’t get it.

“ Do you really think _your brother_ , the boy who raised you, who protected you his whole life, who sacrificed everything for you, who jumped on a drop-ship without even a second thought shooting the Chancellor just to be with you, who did the impossible to keep you safe in every way, who let you almost beat him to death and groveled for your forgiveness for God knows how long… who spent six long years hoping to be with you again, _do you really think he could ever wanted you to die_?”

By the time Clarke’s done, she’s out of breath. Clarke’s _angry at her_. Or maybe just… _shocked, disappointed_? She can’t really say. Does she even has the right to be? It’s not like she made something out of thin air. He _told her so_. And yes, all that Clarke said is true but… that doesn’t erase his words, or the fact that before putting her to sleep he couldn’t even tell that he loved her, not _the way she wanted_.

_\- You’re my sister and a part of me will always love you._

_\- Does the other part still wish I was dead?_

_\- The other part wishes a part of you was, yeah._

“ Truth is, doesn’t matter what I think, Clarke. It simply doesn’t matter ”

“ That’s not true”

“ But it is, isn’t it?  Nobody bothered to ask _why_ , nobody cares about _my version of the story_. I’m the _bad guy_. It doesn’t matter that once I wasn’t, because right now I am. So who cares, right? As long as we have our _mad man_ … ”

“ Well, I _did._ I bothered. And the moment I knew, I _understood_ ”

That _does_ get her attention. All of it. It doesn’t take long to understand that Clarke _really_ bothered and _knows_ what happened. She can read it in her eyes, _everything._

_She knows._ The realization hits her like a punch in the stomach. _She knows_.

“ My mother told me, Octavia. She told me everything and I know it’s not your fault. You were just at the helm of the ship. You had to step up. And my mother, she… she forced you to…”

Clarke’s not on the table anymore. She stands now, in front of her, and she only realized it because she suddenly started to lower her voice, now she’s almost whispering. Her eyes are looking for hers. Octavia lift her gaze, her eyes watery but still she refuses to cry. Clarke’s expression is soft, gentle.

“ What I’m trying to tell you is… I know what it feels like. I _know_ how you feel”

“ But you don’t, Clarke. You don’t”

“ But _I do_. I know about being the _bad guy_. I know about _sacrifice_ , about _guilt_ and _regret._ I know about becoming _something you’re not without even realize it._ But most of all, I know about giving up _hope_. I know the true meaning of _loneliness,_ of _helplessness._ I know _desperation_ , believe me I do. I know about being on the verge of losing _the last shred of sanity you have left_. And I know what it means to want _everything to … just … stop_ ”

Every word is a new tear on Clarke’s face. Every word is new breath for Octavia. They are both crying, silently. Clarke’s hands have reached Octavia’s and they are holding that little strength left for the both of them.

“ I was _so_ _close_ , Octavia. I was so close to make _everything stop_. I had a gun pointed at my head and I was ready to _go_ , I was.”

“ Clarke, you don’t need to…”

“ I was in the desert, _alone_ and _desperate_. I had lost _everything_ and _everyone_ and I was dying already. I was hungry and thirsty and … I just thought, maybe I can just _go now_. I’m done. I did what I had to do. _They_ were safe in space. _You_ were safe in the bunker. _I_ wasn’t supposed to survive”

They could’ve been friends. They should’ve. Well, they were once. They were so similar and different at the same time, they could have been best friends in another life. Octavia needs to see Clarke crying her heart out to realize that _doesn’t want to see her crying_. For some reason, she _doesn’t_. Her _pain_ is so similar to hers, it’s excruciating to listen to her. For a moment she tries to imagine what it could have been like, been alone in the desert. She finds it’s not so hard to imagine herself in that picture.

So feels her hands trembling, so she holds them tighter. Clarke almost smiles between her tears.

“ But then something happened. And I didn’t pull that trigger and I lived. And you know what happened a few days later?  I found Madi”

“ Clarke…”

“ What I’m trying to say is… I was _ready to die_. But that didn’t mean _that I had to_. It wasn’t my time. Just like today wasn’t yours. Because believe it or not, Octavia, if Bellamy hadn’t find you when he did…, no matter how hard we’d tried, you wouldn’t be here now”

Octavia takes a minute to let very word sink in, before speaking again.

“ So what are you saying? That it’s miracle or that it was destiny?”

“ I think it was a little bit of both. But I’m not complaining. Are you? ”

She doesn’t know why she does it, but to her defense she isn’t really thinking straight right now, so when she _hugs_ Clarke, getting of the table and literally _burying her face into her shoulder_ she doesn’t bother to find an explanation. The embrace is tender and strong at the same time, just like _they are_.

For the first time in, God knows,  how long, Octavia let her emotions go wild and she sobs and cries in the arms of someone else. She missed this, she realizes it while Clarke holds her tight, gently caressing her hair and whispering words of comfort. She missed _not being alone_. Having someone just to hold her. And Clarke, for whatever reason, tastes like home and… a little bit like Bellamy. _Maybe they hugged before_ – she thinks, smelling his scent on her. But she wouldn’t really know. It’s been over a century since she last hugged _him_.

Or maybe _it’s not_ , she realizes. It had her in his arms just hours before. _It hasn’t been that long_.

It occurs to her only in that moment, for the first time, that she hasn’t asked Clarke _the million dollar question_. She suddenly stops sobbing and she gently puts away, the question forming on her lips. Clarke is still holding her.

“ You said that _he found me_. But _how_? What was he doing in my room?”

At that, Clarke just smiled.

“ He wanted to talk to you”

“ What?”

“ I’m not saying he was ready to forgive you, but… he wanted _to talk_ ”

Of course the man decides it’s time to talk the day she tries to take her own life. What was that irony? A joke? Maybe _destiny?_ Anyway, he _saved_ her.

“ I can’t believe it” she says, her gaze travelling towards the figure still asleep on the bed. Clarke follows her direction and turns, stepping next to her.

“ I thought…”

“ I know”

“ While he…”

“ He has a big heart, your brother. It amazes me how much he’s capable of forgiving…”

“ Yeah. Can you believe he forgave Echo? I mean…the girl killed her ex, his friends, betrayed him countless times, tried to kill _you_ and almost killed _me_. I mean, c’mon…that’s like: 10 steps to basically ensure Bellamy Blake would never forgive you in a million years! ”

The laughter is so genuine, it takes Clarke by surprise. Octavia almost immediately follows, and the fact the he’s still peacefully sleeping is even more hilarious. She’s glad she was able to lighten the mood a little bit. _They have been crying a lot_.  

“ You have me, there. I mean… one thing is forgiving her, which is literally _too much_ even for him, another is _falling in love with her…_ ”

“ Oh, God! Don’t remind me. Are they still a thing?”

“ Yep”

“ Unbelievable!” Octavia exclaims, shocked. How is possible? Could Echo be _that blind_? Clarke is looking down at her feet now. _This_ conversation clearly makes her uncomfortable, for _obvious reasons._ Of course the woman could talk about life and death and suicide, but blushing at the mere mention of _feelings for her brother_. They really _are_ made for each other.    

“ Funny thing. Before he left I told him to use his head, not his heart”

“ I think he used his _dick_ , for this one anyway…”

When Clarke erupts in another laughter, Octavia just shrugs her shoulders.

“What? As much as I hate her, I still have eyes. She’s hot!”

Realizing she’s laughing, like _really laughing,_ with Clarke Griffin is kind of a big shock at first. To say the truth, Octavia doesn’t even remember the last time she had fun, or the last time she even had the time to mock someone, let alone her brother. Her memories instantly go to the _Delinquents_ , to when they were just a bunch of kids trying to survive on a new planet. It was easier then. Ironically, she remembers those times fondly. She misses them.

“ Are you ok? ” Clarke suddenly asks, taking her back to the present.

“ Yeah… I think I am” she answers, this time. And surprisingly enough, is not a lie.

“ Good. You better be. Your brother’s going to be _pissed_ when he wakes up…”

“ Nothing I can’t handle”

“Right”

Clarke starts collecting her med kit and she finds herself at the door in no time. Octavia has find her way to the chair next to Bellamy’s choice of bed.

“ You’re going to be okay?” Clarke asks, unable to stop herself.

“ I don’t know. Truth to be told, there’s only one thing I’m sure right now”

“ What’s that?”

“ _Ai na ste yuj kos ai gonplei nou ste odon kom nau_[1]” she says and Clarke’s eyes brightens at the words.

“Chit nou frag yu op na teik yu ste mou yuj[2]” Clarke replies, and Octavia simply smiles.

Maybe she succeeded. Maybe she killed _her._ She killed _Bloodreina, or what what left of her_. Or maybe she just killed the voices in her head. Maybe she just needed to talk to someone. Maybe she just needed something to happen, like _divine intervention_ that saved her life to make her understand that she _in fact_ doesn’t want to die. Not yet. Whatever is was, it doesn’t matter. She’ll always have scars to remember.

And _yes_ , people may hate her now. Her brother may not forgive her soon, but it really doesn’t matter. Because when it came to it, he _couldn’t let her die_. He _still_ cares, _he still loves her._

People die every day without knowing how much they’re loved. She almost did, today.

It won’t happen again. Not likely.

 “ Hey, Clarke!” she calls. The blonde stops in her track and comes back to the door.

“ What?”

“ Thank you”

Clarke nods, a gentle smile on her lips before exiting and  leaving the door ajar.

Yeah, redemption _sucks_.  But she’s _not alone._

And for now, that’s enough.

 

[1] “I will be strong for my fight is not yet over”

[2] What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Am i forgiven?  
> Let me know in the comments!


End file.
